


A Stimulating Point Of Departure

by Elfbert



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 09:03:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6111607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfbert/pseuds/Elfbert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hoshi is very persuasive, but she uses her powers for good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Stimulating Point Of Departure

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by Sue, tinkered with by me, so any remaining mistakes are my own.

"Please, sir. You did say you'd do anything—you promised!" Hoshi Sato stood, hands on her hips, barring Malcolm Reed's way in the corridor.

"I know...I meant," Reed paused, "I don't know, but not this!"

"You said anything. It took a long time for me to translate those Klingon weapons specs, this would only be an hour, two at the most."

Reed sighed. He knew he was fighting a losing battle, and he didn't want to spend his entire lunch break arguing with the very determined communication's ensign.

"What do I do then? I've never done anything like this before," he sighed.

Hoshi squealed and hugged Reed before stepping back and regaining her composure.

"Seriously, sir, you really are saving my life, no-one else was free at such short notice."

She began walking with Reed along the corridor, explaining the detail of what she needed him to do.

_________

"Honestly, sir, you'll enjoy it," Hoshi cajoled.

"I don't know, I wouldn't be any good," Trip Tucker said, shaking his head.

"Surely you're used to all the engine designs and technical things," she said, smiling.

"That's different."

"How? Come on, sir, you'd enjoy it, I promise. And it's only an hour or so."

Trip sighed. "Okay, just this once."

Hoshi grinned widely and began giving Trip the information he needed.

_________

Malcolm arrived in the almost empty cargo bay at exactly the time Hoshi had told him. He had finished his shift, showered and had a very light meal, then dressed in his sweatpants and a t-shirt, trying to keep himself calm. 'This is ridiculous,' he told himself, 'you can face down hordes of angry Klingons, yet get worked up about a simple task. Get a grip, man.'

He took a deep breath and walked behind the stack of cargo crates that Hoshi indicated, finding a small hidden area. He told himself that his palms were only sweaty because the room was abnormally warm. He wasn't scared. Not at all.

There were sounds of other people entering the room, and Malcolm began taking deep breaths. 'We're all professionals. We're all grown ups. I can deal with this in a calm and professional manner.'

He stretched down to touch his toes, then did some gentle exercises to warm up his muscles, knowing that he'd feel better for it once they started.

"Okay, we're ready," Hoshi called out.

Malcolm took a final deep breath and walked out from his hidden corner. He quickly glanced at the scene before him. There were some cargo crates as makeshift seating and an array of crewmembers, all circled around a centre of gym mats that were raised up on a low platform formed of more crates. He walked toward the centre and stepped up onto the raised area, immediately taking up one of the stances that he and Hoshi had discussed earlier. He tried to focus, ignoring the people watching, preparing himself for the task ahead.

_________

Trip sat down, glancing at the other crew who had gathered. He glanced across to Hoshi, who was talking with some of them. He watched as she looked around, assessing the group, then called out: "Okay, we're ready."

Trip dropped his pencil in shock as a stark naked Malcolm Reed walked into the centre of the group and struck a pose—hands clasped together by his buttocks, legs apart slightly, head thrown back. Trip opened and closed his mouth a few times and leant over, groping for his pencil on the deck plating. He finally realised that if he were to have any hope of finding the missing implement then he'd have to stop staring at Malcolm and actually look on the floor.

"Okay, everyone, just a five minute pose to begin, start drawing." Hoshi called.

Trip put pencil to paper, not quite knowing where to look.

_________

Malcolm tried to stay as still as possible, and not think about the God-knows-how-many eyes that were busy cataloguing every inch of his body. And thinking of inches, he was suddenly very glad that it was warmer than usual in the cargo bay.

The five minutes passed very quickly for Trip, and he felt as if he'd barely made a start before Hoshi called the end of the pose. He turned over the sheet in disgust at his effort and picked up a piece of charcoal for his next attempt.

Malcolm looked down at Hoshi, who passed him another box and a cushion to sit on.

"If you could just sit on that, maybe have your elbow on a knee, and rest your chin in your palm. And if you could twist to the left...just a little further...that's great."

Malcolm made himself comfortable, then, for the first time, glanced at his audience. And found himself staring into the blue eyes of Commander Trip Tucker. He swallowed.

Trip glanced up as he touched his charcoal onto the paper, then froze. Malcolm's eyes were wide with surprise, and were staring at him. Trip swallowed, then quickly broke eye contact, only to look up again milliseconds later and see that Malcolm hadn't moved.

'Of course he hasn't moved, stupid,' his brain supplied, 'that's the whole point, he's a life drawing model.' Trip felt himself blush and looked down again, not wanting to meet his friend's gaze.

Ten minutes later he had a very detailed drawing of Malcolm's foot and a small portion of ankle.

_________

By the last pose—Malcolm sprawled on his back, one arm behind his neck as his head hung upside down off the edge of the platform, his other hand resting on his flat muscled belly, one of his legs bent at the knee—Trip was glad of the large sketching pad that was over his lap. Every time he touched his charcoal to the page to capture the line of Malcolm's body he could almost feel a caress on the corresponding point on his own torso. He had undone a button of his shirt, silently cursing the fact it was so damn warm in the room, although he rather suspected that he could be in the arctic and still feel hot after the things he'd seen in the last hour.

Hoshi called for the end of the class, and Malcolm jumped up, stretching briefly as many of the artists called out their thanks. Then he disappeared back to the hidden corner to get dressed. He thanked the Lord that the class was over. There were only so many Klingons he could picture naked as a method of self-control, and the last few had started to morph into a blond blue-eyed engineer while he wasn't concentrating. He had had to start thinking of ways he could make a certain ensign suffer for her art instead. He was sure that Hoshi's usual model being unavailable and Trip's sudden interest in art was no coincidence.

Trip took his time packing away his things, grateful when Hoshi made her way over to see him.

"Did you enjoy it?" she asked.

Trip got the feeling she would have winked, if she hadn't been so busy trying to look innocent.

"It, er, wasn't too bad," he stuttered.

"It looked like you did some nice drawings," she smiled.

"'s a bit different to the subject matter I'm used to," he mumbled.

"You mean you'd rather have been drawing a torpedo, or a warp coil?" she asked.

Trip chose not to answer. He picked up his small tin of art materials and made a hasty exit.

Malcolm dressed quickly, but waited until it had gone quiet in the room before exiting his hiding place.

Hoshi was the only one left, deftly packing away her things and returning the bay to some semblance of normality.

"Thank you so much, sir. I know that everyone appreciated you stepping in at such short notice. We would have been left without a model if you hadn't been so kind."

Reed looked at her, his eyes slightly narrowed. She was, in his opinion, acting far too innocently. And he'd heard her talking to Trip after the class in the same tone, although they had been speaking too quietly for him to hear what had been said.

"I wasn't aware that so many of the crew were artists," he said dryly.

"Oh, you'd be surprised, sir," she smiled sweetly. "Lots of people feel the need to get in touch with their true self through art from time to time."

Reed turned on his heel and walked out of the door. He turned toward the turbolift and saw a familiar figure waiting already.

"Commander," he greeted as he stood next to Trip.

"I...er...Malcolm," Trip swallowed audibly.

"I had no idea you attended Hoshi's art classes," Malcolm said.

"I don't. I mean—I didn't, I mean...this was my first time." Trip immediately cursed his choice of phrase.

"And did you rise to the occasion?" Malcolm asked, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the doors in front of him.

Trip's head snapped round, eyes wide, sure that Malcolm was referring to his arousal in the class.

Malcolm turned his head slightly and met Trip's eyes, face straight. "Or would you like a private session?"

Trip had absolutely no idea what to say. So he stepped forward and kissed Malcolm, full on the lips.

A second later the turbolift doors slid open. Trip broke the kiss, shocked at his own actions. He was about to say something—apologise, anything, when Malcolm stepped into the lift and performed a smart about-turn. Trip's heart sank.

"Commander?"

Trip looked up. Malcolm's tone hadn't held any anger, just polite questioning.

"I was wondering if you'd like to show me your etchings, so to speak. Perhaps in the privacy of your cabin?" Malcolm smirked, then ran his tongue along his lower lip invitingly.

Trip felt a wide smile appear on his face, and he took two long strides into the lift, pushed Malcolm against the wall and kissed him again.


End file.
